


Paid in full, part 3

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 08:42:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11332326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived atThe Basement, which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address onThe Basement's collection profile.





	Paid in full, part 3

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Paid In Full Part 3 by Katy Deery

Paid In Full  
Part 3  
By Katy Deery 

* * *

He'd had in mind dinner, maybe the theater if they could find something off off Broadway, but here they were again, in the middle of nowhere, looking at a very pretty, but ultimately UFO free sky. This was not how he'd pictured domestic bliss.

"Mulder, what the hell are we doing here?" No answer was forthcoming, his companion too engrossed in checking out whether that really was only a shooting star and making a silent wish just in case.

Skinner checked his watched and sighed impatiently. 2.30 in the morning. If he had to be up at this godawful time there were better things he could be doing, and most of them included the man who seemed to have forgotten his existence.

"Mulder," more forcefully this time, "I have to be up at 6.30. and you've got a morning meeting with the detective on the Cimino case."

As hints went it was less than subtle, but Skinner had soon learnt that subtle with Mulder was hitting him over the head with a two by four.

"Hmmm?"

Well at least he'd gotten some sort of reply this time. Deciding more forceful action was required, Skinner plucked the binoculars out of Mulder's hands.

"Hey!"

"Mulder, we are going home. I'm going to bed for what remains of the night. You can stay up, watch TV, give your insomnia a treat if you like, but WE ARE GOING HOME. Now! Understood?"

Mulder grinned at him. "Nothing much to see out here anyway," he answered maddeningly. Skinner took deep breaths and just managed to hold onto his temper.

"Why couldn't you've come to that conclusion four hours ago?" he ground out, pulling a willing Mulder over to where he'd parked his car.

"Come on, Walter, we've got moonlight and the stars. Most people would say we were sharing a romantic moment here."

Skinner looked at him as if he were someone's mad cousin on day release from the attic. "Romantic moment? Most of the time you didn't even know I was alive."

Mulder felt guilty as he heard the real hurt behind Skinner's words. As they got in the car, he slid over the seat and pulled his lover to him.

"I'm sorry, I guess I got caught up. I'm not used to anyone being with me."

Skinner's expression softened. Mulder could be the most impossibly infuriating person he had ever met...then he would say something as artlessly revealing as that and it would melt Skinner's heart all over again.

"Just try to remember you're not alone anymore, OK?" he whispered against Mulder's throat, gently pushing him back to his side of the car. He really did want to get home to bed, although maybe he could sacrifice another half hour of sleep to other activities when they got there.

"I love you." Mulder caressed Walter's thigh as the other man started the car.

"Keep that thought," Skinner replied, stroking the hand that lay in his lap.

*******

Without opening his eyes, Skinner pressed closer to the warm heat next to him, nudging his morning erection into the inviting furrow seemingly put there specifically for this purpose. He rolled his hips a few times without any real urgency until his breath began to quicken and the slow movement was no longer quite enough. Pushing an unresisting body slightly over to facilitate better access, he smiled into his lover's shoulder when he heard the sleepy mumble and felt a leg rise to help him along with his plan.

"I hope you don't expect me to do any of the work here," came Mulder's muffled query as Skinner reached over for the lube. "After last night, I don't think I have the energy to raise more than an eyebrow."

"You were the one who kept us out UFO hunting," Skinner protested as he applied the lube where it would do most good.

"Yeah, and you were the one who insisted we had to get some sleep, then proceeded to keep me awake most of what remained of the night."

"You objecting?" Skinner asked, not at all worried by the half-hearted grumbling. His hand reached round to find that Mulder was not as dead as he was claiming. A few strokes increased his interest dramatically and he pressed back into Skinner with a low rumble of pleasure.

"If you're going to ravish me again, hurry up before I go back to sleep."

Skinner had a sudden flash of Mulder as the virgin heroine from one of those overdone romance novel, chuckling at the image. He guided his cock and pressed into Mulder slowly, finding him still slightly slick from their activities of only a few hours before. As he rocked into him, he smoothly glided a hand along Mulder's penis, occasionally stroking the tightening balls underneath. Mulder's head pushed back against his shoulder, eyes closed, his mouth half open as guttural sounds forced their way past his lips, driving Skinner's own excitement higher and higher. His thrusts were no longer slow, nor so gentle, as he strove to find that place, that moment, of total fulfillment. He began to slam Mulder into the bed, almost covering his body now as he sank into his lover forcefully.

"Come on, come on, Walter. Give it to me, give me your best. Yeah, that's it, fuck me," Mulder chanted, knowing it drove Skinner wild to hear him talk like this.

"Fox...Fox..." Skinner could feel himself begin to come, concentrating on riding out the rippling peaks as he strained into the body beneath him. He felt the warm pulses fill his lover, still thrusting shallowly as they died away and he lay gasping over Mulder's form.

Mulder groaned and laughed, running his hand along Skinner's flank approvingly.

Catching his breath, Skinner eased his weight slightly, but kept himself inside his lover. Reaching for the cock he had sadly neglected as his own pleasure crashed through him, he began to pump it again.

"Oh yeah, just there..I..just a bit more," Mulder encouraged as Skinner stroked his flesh. Hips barely moving for fear his softening flesh would slip from Mulder's body, he used his penis to massage his lover's prostate and soon had the man hovering on the brink of his own orgasm. It only needed a sure thumb to stoke the tip of Mulder's cock and he was there, shouting out Skinner's name as he climaxed. Skinner caught as much of his come as he could, spreading it over Mulder's belly and the crisp pubic hair below. He pressed Mulder close, nuzzling his neck contentedly as the other man came down from his high and lay exhausted beneath him.

Skinner wanted nothing more than to join him in sleep, but they both had work to go to. Sighing regretfully, he pulled away from his indolent companion, landing a reviving smack on Mulder's behind as he left the bed.

"Hey!" Mulder exclaimed, indignant at being so rudely torn from his languor. "This must be what they mean about using and abusing." He winced for dramatic effect, rubbing his ass as he turned over and glared at Skinner's retreating back.

"You've got that detective to talk to today and I've got Reynolds' disciplinary hearing," Skinner reminded as he made his way into the bathroom.

Mulder sank back into the pillows, fondly remembering the days when living on four hours sleep was so much easier. Although if needing more sleep was one of the drawbacks of being happy, he wasn't going to complain too much.

And he was happy, most of the time anyway. It wasn't something he had expected, in fact he hadn't thought that his relationship with his boss would last out the year. But it had, and three years down the line he wasn't sure who was more surprised, him or Walter. They had fights, sometimes they needed their own space, but most of the time they were just two people who had found each other and didn't intend to let go.

In many ways his relationship with his boss was the most normal thing in his life, stable, secure, something to depend on in a world where he could afford to depend on very little. He sometimes wondered if Skinner knew how much he loved him, but they so rarely spoke about what was between them, neither finding it easy to bare their souls even now.

A yell from the other room made him grumble and throw back the covers, his slight smile indicating that he was less than intimidated by his lover's threatening tone. Wandering into the bathroom, he saw that Skinner was well into his shower, singing in a deep bass that Mulder had come to know well in the years they had been together. Using the toilet, he flushed, then, deciding a little payback was in order, reached through the shower curtain and turn the cold on full. Grinning, he beat a hasty retreat as the curses flowed behind him. Going into the guest bathroom to shower, he was mildly disappointed when Walter didn't follow to wreak his revenge for the dousing of cold water he'd received.

Drying off, Mulder chose his clothes for the day and went to see what mood his companion was in. Finding Skinner sipping coffee in the kitchen while reading the sports' section, he pored himself a cup, keeping a surreptitious eye on his lover. Ignored, he rummaged for something to eat, looking consideringly at the cereal, but going with toast instead. As he sat opposite Skinner and was still met with thundering silence, he decided enough was enough. Reaching out, he tipped the paper down and peered over it into the stern face of his lover.

"I really hate it when you sulk."

Skinner's lips twitched. He shook the paper and folded it neatly. He'd wondered how long it would take Mulder to give in and say something.

"Don't worry, Mulder, I'll never be in your class." Leaning over, he gave Mulder a quick kiss, then batted him playfully on the hand with the paper. "Hurry up and eat your breakfast or you'll be late."

Mulder grinned at him, making biting into his toast a tease which Skinner valiantly disregarded as he quickly finished his own breakfast and cleared up.

They left for work separately, sharing a hurried kiss at the door that soon became a long, leisurely one. It would have to hold them through a day when they could only appear the most casual of acquaintances, but they'd grown used to the subterfuge and reluctantly accepted it as the price they had to pay.

As they journeyed in, taking slightly different routes as usual, both men wondered if there would ever come a time they could openly admit their feelings for each other.

And whether the relationship was strong enough to hold out until that day came.

*********

Mulder hated FBI seminars with a passion most people reserved for dentists and funerals. Mostly he'd been able to avoid them throughout his career, nobody much minding if 'Spooky' Mulder didn't come along to put a pall on the event. But Skinner was not of the same mind and had insisted that Mulder's fellow agents would benefit from his investigatory techniques. Unfortunately the rest of the FBI didn't seem to hold his skills in quite the same regard as his boss and his 'fellow agents' were taking every opportunity to show Mulder exactly how they felt.

Mulder was used to the attitude and he had learnt to ignore it or deflect the taunts with a suitable quip. Surprisingly it was Skinner who was having a hard time controlling himself, reacting badly whenever he was present to witness one of the slights aimed Mulder's way. After the second dressing down given to one of the Texas agents, Mulder had pulled Skinner aside and suggested that he cool it. They couldn't afford the attention, and although it was nice to have Walter defending him, it was just too risky. After that Skinner had kept his temper a little better, but a glare from the AD was enough warning to anyone getting in Mulder's face.

Finished for the day, Mulder let himself into the haven of his hotel room with something like relief. At least here he was left alone. No offers to hit the local bars of course. It wouldn't cross their minds to invite him, and he was way beyond feeling any hurt over the fact. Anyway, there was only one person he cared to sample the local nightlife with, and they had both agreed to keep things strictly platonic while they were in Texas. Mulder sincerely hoped Skinner was finding that decision as hard to live with as he was.

Switching on the light, he immediately noticed the single red rose that lay on his bed. Walking over slowly, he picked it up and smelt the heady perfume it gave off. His birthday, it was his birthday. He'd almost forgotten. And of course he knew who the rose was from.

The first one had come on his birthday three years ago, a single bloom of such perfection that it seemed almost surreal. The card that came with it held only one word.

Remember.

He knew that this one like all the others would carry the same message.

<Oh, Alex. I am so sorry. So very, very sorry.>

He went and filled the cup in the bathroom with water and propped the rose in it beside his bed. The bloom would fade fast, the petals curling and falling. Roses were not for keeping.

And he knew he wouldn't see Alex, as he hadn't seen him in almost two years now. His way of honoring Mulder's decision. Never there, but never forgotten.

Watching from the shadows. Always watching.

<Do I want to lose this last connection to you? Am I so selfish that I want you near, even when I can't offer you what you need?>

He wondered what Krycek's life was like, if he loved someone else now, made love to someone else. And in his heart he knew he hated the thought of anyone having that part of him that belonged only to Mulder.

Lying on the bed, he felt lonely and sad. It was his birthday and he was alone. Skinner had called for him that morning and risked one kiss and a soft 'Happy Birthday' before they went down to the conference room together. They had agreed to wait and celebrate when they got home, and he knew it made sense, but some small part of Mulder resented that caution and yearned for something wild and free and forbidden, just this once.

Sighing, he decided to take a shower and wipe the day off his skin, scowling in irritation when he heard the phone ring. Since he had left Skinner below discussing a few things with one of the local big wigs, the only other person likely to be calling him was Scully, so he stretched over the bed and picked up the phone.

"Mulder."

"She says the lights are gonna to take her again. No one else'll believe us. Only you. Be at Spike's Turning at 10.00 and you'll see."

There was a soft click and the dial tone buzzing insistently in his ear. He replaced the phone with a frown. Hoax? One of his less than adult fellow agent's idea of a good way to wind up old Spooky? Quite possibly. Unfortunately that didn't matter. He couldn't take the chance that this wasn't a genuine tip-off. Checking his watch, he saw that it was almost 8.30, which hopefully left him a little time to look into things and find out where the hell Spike's Turning was.

Galvanized, he quickly made his way downstairs, looking for Skinner so that he could tell him about the phone call. A brief search told him that the AD was not where he'd last seen him.

"Did you see where AD Skinner went?" he asked the desk clerk. "Big guy, bald with glasses."

The description did it and the clerk told him he'd seen Skinner leaving with the man he'd been talking to earlier. Mulder had left his cellphone in his room, expecting to find Skinner in the hotel. He stood, indecisive. He could easily go to his room and call his boss, but the delay had given him time to think. Walter wouldn't want him to go, would probably order him <not> to go. And they'd both know he'd go anyway. That being the case, Skinner was bound to want to come along as back up. Which could get a little embarrassing if this did turn out to be just a prank. He doubted that Walter would see the funny side of it and he might overreact. Just the fact that he'd chosen to accompany Mulder would set the gossip mill running. Walter still hadn't quite got down the boss/lover dynamics and was sometimes a little too overprotective.

Making his decision, Mulder returned to the desk.

"Do you have a map of the area? I need to find a place called Spike's Turning."

**********

In the end, he almost missed his destination. Spike's Turning was little more than a track leading off one of the backroads. He was surprised it was even mentioned on the map. As he drew the car to a halt he noticed wryly that his surroundings were suitably dark and deserted. The trees surrounding the little clearing afforded privacy to the ramshackle farmhouse at the end of the trail. No doubt once occupied, the obvious air of disuse about the place left no doubt to its abandoned state now.

<Great. Come on boys, where are you? Going to jump out and shout 'Boo'?> Although he was pretty convinced that this was just some wild goose chase he'd been sent on by his fun loving colleagues, he nevertheless decided that since he was there he might as well investigate.

Taking a flashlight out of his glove compartment, he left the car and started towards the house, assuming that was the most likely place he'd find anything. The door was unlocked and posed no problem. Mulder swung the flashlight around as he entered the house, suppressing a cough as the musty air inside hit his lungs. In front of him was a stairway that led to the upper floor. The room to his left was obviously the kitchen, a quick look ascertaining that a table and some chairs were all that remained. Moving through, he found the living room as dust covered as the rest of the house, sparse furnishings too old or of too little value to bother taking. No one had been here for a long time.

He checked his watched. It was almost 10.00. Since there was only one road in, he decided to go upstairs and find a window where he could observe if anything was happening. He'd give them until 10.30, then chalk another one up to the junior brigade and call it a night. As he ascended the stairs he heard a heavy tread on the porch and turned, quickly drawing his gun. One of the FBI's finest or something a little more threatening? Switching off his flashlight, he started back down the stairs. Suddenly he felt the board beneath him give under his weight and tried to step back, but it was too late. There was a sharp crack and he cried out in alarm as his leg disappeared through the rotting wood. Instinctively trying to save himself by clutching at the banister, he lost both gun and flashlight into the darkness.

Agonizing pain raced up his leg as a long shard of wood tore through his flesh. He yelled as he felt it push deeper, his momentum pressing it in. After a few seconds the initial agony died to a low rumble. Trying a gentle tug, only to be hit by another wave of incredible agony, he decided that removing his leg from its prison was not currently an option.

The footsteps were drawing closer and Mulder had never wished more for the reassuring presence of his gun. <Walter, you are going to kill me for this,> was his rather hysterical thought as the pain subsided to a manageable level. This was not good and he was praying that it was just a joke gone wrong and that he'd soon be on his way to hospital. He didn't think his leg was broken, but the jagged wood had rent a good size hole by the feel of the blood trickling down his calf.

Hunting desperately in his pocket for his cellphone, he felt the familiar bulk just as the door below was pushed open and he was blinded by a beam of light.

"Why, what do we have here? Seems like you're having a might bit of trouble." The mocking voice was unfamiliar and Mulder was unable to see anything more than a large, dark form at the foot of the stairs.

"Who're you? Are you the one who contacted me?"

He heard a deep chuckle. "Yep, that was me. I didn't figure it would be this easy, you being an FBI man an all."

The conversation was not going well to Mulder's mind. "I need help here. My leg's caught and I'm bleeding."

The flashlight dipped to where his leg was trapped. Another satisfied chuckle came out of the darkness.

"It sure looks bad. But don't worry none. You won't be feeling no pain soon."

The words were not encouraging and Mulder closed his eyes, fighting the dizziness that threatened to pull him into unconsciousness. No time for the cellphone now. He needed a weapon, but there were none in reach and every attempt at movement was like a walk through fire. "Who the hell are you?" he asked, more to concentrate his mind than because he really cared.

"You remember Johnny Rabscon? You should remember, you put him in jail. I seen you in court in your fancy suit telling everyone how you caught Johnny before he had a chance to kill that whore. Telling how he'd killed all those other hookers. That's all they were good for, laying on their backs and taking it."

Johhny Rabscon? Yes, Mulder remembered him. His years with VCU had been filled with such cases. Rabscon was probably one of the more run of the mill profiles in fact. Just a man with a grudge who got a kick out of killing women.

"I remember. Don't tell me, you're his twin brother. I can see the family resemblance."

The insult got through, wiping the smile off the other man's face. "You think you're funny, but I ain't the one with my leg stuck through the stairs," the man sneered.

Mulder had to give him that one. "How did you find me?" He could have cared less right at that moment, but every second he kept the guy talking was a second more he had to figure out a way of staying alive.

"Just my lucky day. I work across the street from that fancy hotel of yours. Couldn't believe after all these years I'd get a chance at you. All I had to do was phone. I heard some off those other suits talking, saying how you believed in them there little green men and the like. Shoulda locked you up instead ah my cousin, I reckon. I never figured you'd come alone though. You gotta be crazy, coming here like this. And you all acting so clever in that there courthouse too."

Well, that was about the level of his luck. Mulder sometimes wondered if he'd been cursed at birth. It would explain so much about his life. "There are a few people back at the hotel who'd agree with you." He knew he ought to be trying to talk the man around, but the pain was draining him, taking all his concentration.

The man raised something and Mulder could tell by its shape that it was a shotgun.

"This is beautiful and no one will be able to trace it to me. I'll get you back for Johnny and just walk away." He laughed, and pointed the gun at Mulder. "Goodbye, Mr. FBI man."

Mulder closed his eyes and waited, thinking about Walter...about Alex. He jerked back as he heard a sharp retort tear through the air and felt a stabbing pain.......but only in his leg as it protested the sudden movement.

The silence that followed was only broken by soft footfalls below. Mulder opened his eyes cautiously.

"Mulder, you really need to develop some taste in the people who want to kill you. This guy needed serious fashion advice."

Mulder recognized the mocking tone, looking down to where a tall, slim figure stood over a slumped shadow lying on the floor.

"Alex." It was only a breath of sound.

Krycek kicked the body out of the way and climbed up to Mulder gingerly, conscious of not wanting to find himself in Mulder's position.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Mulder asked, pulling himself up and trying to ignore the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him. He gasped, the pain flaring again, his head spinning as he struggled not to pass out.

"Easy," Krycek cautioned, holding his arm to steady him. "I followed you from the hotel. I was a little curious as to what you were doing, but I knew that whatever it was, it was bound to be entertaining. I've got to give it to you Mulder, you didn't let me down."

"Glad to be of...." he bit his lip, thankful for the hand that supported him. "I'm glad you're here," he said instead, the words low and vulnerable and honest.

Krycek crouched on the step below him, intense and watchful. "I just wish I'd got here sooner."

Mulder had to smile at that. "Not as much as I do."

Krycek didn't return his smile. "We have to get you out of there." He looked at Mulder grimly. "It's going to hurt."

Mulder croaked out a laugh. "It hurts now you fuck. Just get me out of here." He reached down and grabbed Krycek's arm. "And Alex....thanks."

Krycek smiled briefly, then took the butt of his gun and carefully broke away the board surrounding Mulder's leg. He didn't touch the large fragment imbedded in Mulder's flesh, for which the FBI man was eternally grateful.

"Right, let's get you up," Krycek said, going round and standing on the step above him.

He pulled Mulder up gently and Mulder assisted as much as he could with his free leg and arms. The pain was blinding, but just the fact of Alex's presence seemed to make it better. Between them they soon had Mulder resting at the bottom of the stairs where Krycek took a better look at his wound.

"I'm not going to take the wood out. It'll only make the bleeding worse. We need to get you to a hospital."

Mulder fumbling in his pocket and withdrew his cellphone, handing it to Krycek. "I'll never grumble about hospital food again, just tell them to hurry up and get here with the drugs, OK?"

He rested back against the dusty floor as Krycek dialed, glancing over dispassionately at the dead body that lay nearby.

"Who was he anyway?" Krycek asked as he finished his call.

Mulder felt so tired, the pain draining him. "Just someone with a grudge. I seem to bring that out in people."

He winced as Krycek wrapped a tourniquet around his thigh and elevated his leg as much as possible.

The silence seemed unnatural and he raised himself on his elbows so he could see Krycek better.

"Alex."

The summons made Krycek look in Mulder's direction, but he wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry." Mulder didn't know what else to say. It had been so long since he had last seen Krycek and he wasn't proud of how he had ended it. But ended it he had.

And now Alex had saved his life. Again.

"Did you make the right choice, Mulder?" Krycek whispered harshly. In opposition, his touch was gentle as he reached out and softly stroked Mulder's cheek. "Do you ever lie awake and think about me? Of what you gave up to be with him?"

Mulder closed his eyes against the intensity of Krycek's demand. "I try not to, but yes, sometimes I think about what it might have been like." He faced Krycek with compassion. "But I don't regret my choice. I love him. I need him."

Krycek's hand lowered and he stood. "I know."

They both heard the car approach, Krycek immediately on alert.

"That'll be Walter. I left a note at the hotel," Mulder said with apprehension, aware that a meeting between Skinner and Krycek was not a good idea, especially as both men had guns.

Krycek pushed the rotting curtain aside to check. Mulder watched him nervously as he raised his weapon.

"Don't worry," Krycek taunted, easily reading Mulder's mind. "I know it wouldn't do any good. Otherwise he would have been dead a long time ago."

He turned from the window and stepped over to Mulder. "Time for me to go." Leaning over, he savaged Mulder's lips in a kiss that took no prisoners, grabbing Mulder's hair to keep him in place while he devoured lips that offered no resistance.

"Try to be more careful, Mulder," Krycek said, standing again. "I won't always be here to watch your back."

"Won't you?" Mulder asked, a question that had more layers that the simple words.

Krycek met his challenge. "I do have a life, Mulder. Wife, kid. I even have a dog now."

For a second, just a second, Mulder felt his heart freeze in shock. "You're a lying sonofabitch, Krycek," he eventually replied, his confidence restored by the mocking smile he received and the fact that he knew this man better than anyone.

Krycek just chuckled, the husky sound molten lava to Mulder's senses. "Still not believing me, Mulder? Well, maybe you're right...this time."

The footfalls drew closer and they heard Skinner calling Mulder's name.

"You know, I really do hate that guy."

Said jokingly, this time Mulder had no doubt that Krycek was speaking the honest truth.

"See you around, Mulder."

They looked at each other for a moment, then Mulder turned away, unable to hold Krycek's silent regard. The next time he looked, he was alone.

It was only a few moments later that he saw the familiar figure of his lover enter the house.

"Mulder!" Skinner hurried to his side, dropping down to kneel beside him on the dusty floor. "Christ, I'll call an ambulance."

Mulder forestalled him by waving his cellphone. "Already done."

Skinner looked him over anxiously, obviously not sure what he should do. "What happened? I got your note. It didn't explain a hell of a lot."

Mulder could see that Skinner wanted to lay into him about going off on his own and only his sorry state was stopping him. He was pleased about that as he didn't feel ready to cope with another lecture, however well deserved. His head felt as though it was floating away and the darkness seemed to be closing in on him.

"Walter, next time you think about taking me to one of these seminars, just kill me first, OK? It'll be kinder."

He never felt the hands that gently held his head as his gave up his struggle with the pain and let the darkness take him.

***********

They'd taken him to the hospital, but only kept him in for a couple of days to check there was no infection. Scully had phoned, offered to come down, but he'd told her no. They visited each other enough in hospital and this at least was not a serious injury.

Which meant that his only visitor was Walter, who seemed to have put aside good sense and visited far too often for appearances' sake. It wasn't likely that anyone else would find out though since no other FBI personnel came within spitting distance of him.

The locals had taken his statement, which was a mixture of lies and truth, and that was pretty much the end of their interest in him, for which he was grateful. Walter on the other hand was not so easily deceived, but seemed willing to wait until he was better to get the full version of events. Somehow Mulder had the feeling that he guessed more than he was letting on, and that avoidance of the subject was a joint effort on both their parts.

Once back home and off active duty, Mulder found himself with more time than he would have wished for to muse on life, his own in particularly.

Alex had looked....on the edge. It worried him and stirred up the old feelings of guilt that never seemed that far away where his relationship with Krycek was concerned. And then there was Walter, and the guilt he felt every time his emotions were torn between the two men. No easy questions here, and even fewer answers.

He sighed and reached for his walking stick. He'd enjoyed Walter fussing over him for the first day or so, but even that had grown tired and he'd been almost relieved when his lover had had to return to work. He felt ungrateful, but he still wasn't used to someone worrying about him and the responsibility that brought with it.

Hobbling over to the window, he sat down on the chair that had been placed there for his convenience, looking with some awe at his birthday gift. Of all the things he would have imagined Walter buying him, a telescope wasn't one of them, and he'd laughed at the dry comment from his lover that now he wouldn't have to drag him out into the middle of nowhere to look at the stars. His laughter had been edged with pain though, knowing that Walter would never really understand what drove him to search the night sky in the hopes of finding at least some answers to his questions.

Fingering the long metal tube, he adjusted the lens and took a look at the moon, but soon grew restless.

<I wonder what you're doing tonight, Alex?> he thought as he settled back into his chair and stared down at the street below.

He was still sitting there when Walter came home, reacting only when he felt a soft caress on his cheek and lips stroke his own.

"Hi," Mulder said, stretching to ease the kinks in stiff muscles. "Sorry, I sort of tuned out there for a while."

Skinner looked at him consideringly. "You OK?" He rubbed Mulder's shoulders soothingly.

Mulder didn't answer for a moment, then raised his hand and captured one of Skinner's.

"I love you, you know?"

If his lover could sense more to the words, he didn't comment on it, just lent down and kissed the top of Mulder's head.

"Yeah, I know." He rubbed Mulder's hair tenderly, then gestured out of the window at the dimly twinkling night sky. "See anything good?"

"I prefer the view in here." Mulder got up carefully and turned into the arms that opened to welcomed him. "How about you give me the second part of my present now."

Skinner smiled and his hold on Mulder tightened briefly.

"Come on, let's see if I can make you see stars of a different kind," Skinner challenged, gently helping an unresisting Mulder into the bedroom for a long and very private birthday celebration.

The End


End file.
